Page 72 of Sacrifice
Gorm even bought a leather jacket he definitely can't afford just to have an excuse to come inside and check on me.
A moment later, Emil's bike rumbles into view.
Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he scans the street before dismounting.
He's wearing the jacket he bought yesterday—was that really just yesterday?—and it fits him like armor.
"How was your day?" he asks when I emerge, but he's not looking at me.
He's checking rooftops, parked cars, anywhere a threat might hide.
"Long. Scary. Normal Tuesday stuff." I try to be funny, but my humor falls flat.
"The prospects say you had a panic attack around lunch."
"The prospects need to mind their own business."
"You're their business right now." He hands me the helmet, fingers brushing mine. "What triggered it?"
"A customer came in. Hispanic guy, thirties. Probably just shopping, but?—"
"But you're seeing threats everywhere." His hand cups my face. "That's normal. Expected, even. Your body's in survival mode."
"I hate it. Hate being afraid of shadows."
"Fear keeps you alive. Just don't let it paralyze you." He helps me onto the bike. "Ready to see Elfe?"
"More than ready."
The ride to the hospital is quick but tense.
Emil takes a different route than usual, doubling back twice, always checking mirrors.
Gorm and Aren follow on their bikes, maintaining perfect spacing.
It's like a military convoy, and I'm the precious cargo.
I press closer to Emil than necessary, breathing in his scent—leather and soap and that underlying smell that's just him.
His body is warm against mine, solid and reassuring.
Every turn, every stop, I'm hyperaware of him.
Of the muscles shifting under his jacket, the careful way he handles the bike, the protective energy radiating from him.
The hospital parking garage is mostly empty at this hour.
Emil parks near the elevator, engine off but eyes still scanning.
The concrete structure feels like a cave, all shadows and echoes.
"New rules," he says as we dismount. "You don't go anywhere without me. Not the bathroom, not the vending machines, nowhere. Clear?"
"Crystal."
"And if I tell you to run, you run. No questions, no hesitation."
"Emil—"
